𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘 𝗜𝗦 𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗩𝗜𝗧𝗔𝗕𝗟𝗘| ꜰ. ʜᴀʀɢʀᴇᴇᴠᴇꜱ (rewrite)

1| ᴘʀᴏʟᴏɢᴜᴇ

ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ 12ᴛʜ ʜᴏᴜʀ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴅᴀʏ ᴏꜰ ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 1989, 43 ᴡᴏᴍᴇɴ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ʙɪʀᴛʜ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴜɴᴜꜱᴜᴀʟ ᴏɴʟʏ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀᴄᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɴᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ᴡᴏᴍᴇɴ ʜᴀᴅ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴛ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ʙᴇɢᴀɴ. ꜱɪʀ ʀᴇɢɪɴᴀʟᴅ ʜᴀʀɢʀᴇᴇᴠᴇꜱ, ᴇᴄᴄᴇɴᴛʀɪᴄ ʙɪʟʟɪᴏɴᴀɪʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴅᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇʀ, ʀᴇꜱᴏʟᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴄᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴅᴏᴘᴛ ᴀꜱ ᴍᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ ᴀꜱ ᴘᴏꜱꜱɪʙʟᴇ.

ʜᴇ ɢᴏᴛ ᴇɪɢʜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇᴍ.

17 YEARS AGO

Everyone was born something. Ugly, pretty, interesting, boring. The list went on, especially for Number Eight.

At only eleven years old, Number Eight, was just. . .special. Of course the people of the world viewed the seven members of the Umbrella Academy as special when they were first revealed. But there was something about Number Eight that just enthralled the public. She was pretty, clever, and sure her number wasn't 1, but that made her the underdog, and everyone loved an underdog.

A whole number had been skipped over just to give her the lowest rank, she was unique.

Every young girl at the time wanted to be her. And with her ability to see the future, that want was shared by most children. In all of her public appearances the way she spoke made her the most popular Umbrella Academy member.

And this popularity skyrocketed when she went missing, for the two years she was a hero her impact was tremendous. Who knows what would've been if she didn't disappear.

Number Eight, the seer of the Umbrella Academy would be missed, forever remembered as the kind and charming hero she was.

~☂︎~

"You. . .stabbed him," Number 1 realized, slowly. The body of the bank robber you had taken down moments before laying in front of him. "He's dying."

You shrugged, nonchalantly. "Some people deserve to die."

11 year old Number One gaped at you, this was the Umbrella Academy's first mission, all they had to do was stop a bank robbery. It was such an easy task. A simple task. So simple.

"We can't just kill people, Eight!" One protested, anxiety clear on his face.

You rolled your eyes, walking past him, "Blah, blah, blah," you mocked, "he's not dead yet. And don't call me that, I have a name, you know?"

Number Five walked up to the knocked out robber, right hand tossing and catching a stapler. He nudged the robber with his foot, "looks like, Eight's, not getting dessert tonight," he laughed.

You couldn't help but glare at the bane of your preteen existence, "shut it, Five, at least I have a name, try using it for once."

As the only Umbrella Academy member that was raised by their actual mother for the first years of your life, you had a name, it was Y/n. The legal Hargreeves didn't, at least not yet, and it was something you liked to shove in their face every once in a while.

Five glared right back at you, "and who gave you that name? The Mom that abandoned you three years ago?"

And that was enough to make you lunge for him, desperate for blood. Unfortunately for you, Number One was all too used to you and Number Five's bickering. Using his strength, he shoved you and Number Five away from each other before the brawl started.